How to Seduce a Fossil
by Mali Bear's Buddy
Summary: That was how it started, how the Black Widow decided to take Captain America's love life by the shield and show him how to live a life more extraordinary. A life that's messy and full of promise, truth be damned. "Who do you want me to be?" - Starts in Winter Soldier and will move beyond. Steve/Natasha now, possibly other pairing(s) later. Rating may change.
1. Chapter 1: Kiss of the Spiderwoman

**Author Note: **Takes place during/after _Captain America: The Winter Soldier._

**Disclaimer: **No copyright infringement intended. Unbetaed, all mistakes are mine.

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><p><span>Chapter One: Kiss of the Spiderwoman<span>

_"You must remember this: A kiss is just a kiss…" - As Time Goes By_

Being a female spy is an art form. A man can overpower with strength, he can knock you down or push you over and take the advantage. A woman, on the other hand, is often greatly underestimated. She can be cunning and fierce, capable of bringing down opponents with a very different set of skills. It takes a special girl with a lot of guts and limited conscience to do what Natasha Romanoff does.

Captain America is the original super soldier. His passion for truth and non-violent temperament are the stuffs legends are made of. But in the situation they are faced with now, disguise doesn't matter. He's a sitting as surely as if he were wearing his uniform.

The Black Widow is a deadly honey trap. She's seduced men for intel and left them to bleed out when she's gotten what she wanted. No stopping to consider casualties or fallout, no regrets. She isn't afraid to play dirty and knows how to blend in and make an escape afterwards.

He belongs on the battlefield. Since they are on her turf, he'll have to play by her rules. She's calling the shots on this little mall mission whether he likes it or not.

While Steve Rogers is used to handling things with brawn and a shiny disk made of rare metal, Natasha Romanoff has a different way of getting to the heart of the matter. She's not afraid to use force, but she's also not afraid to use her feminine wiles. It's with the sweet tricks that _she_ will get them out of here even as _he_ obsessed over military strategy and combat tactics. _Men_. Dare she say it? _Old men_. She knows 'protecting' her is just part of his code, but she's perfectly capable of taking care of herself.

She sees the team leader first. Steve's eyes are higher as he keeps watch, eyeing the overhead levels top down. Turning to him she demands, "Kiss me."

"Wha…?" _Confusion. Priceless_. _There was training and there was _training_._ She's about to school Captain America on how to lay low.

"Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable," she says cooly. Her mind is on the rapidly approaching agent. His focus is on her, he stares with his mouth slightly agape in shock. That's dangerous. It could get them both caught.

"Yes they do," he murmurs half under his breath.

_Now is not the time to argue with me, Rogers,_ she thinks. _Nor is it the time to be old fashioned. _She rolls her eyes in frustration before placing her hands on his shoulders and dragging his lips down to hers.

He's rigid, which is no fun because she's used to the sweet submission of a lover's mouth without having to work too hard for it. She can practically feel his eyebrows shoot to his hairline in surprise at the gesture. She needs him to engage or their cover may be blown. Just for the hell of it she skims her tongue along the seam of his lips and he settles enough his hands find her waist and he sort of hums against her bee stung lips.

Then it's over and she pulls away. He fumbles a little, but she shows no sign of impact. Her breathing is steady as she asks, "Still uncomfortable?"

"Not exactly the word I'd use…" If he wasn't stiff before, he certainly is now. Her lips twitch slightly as he shakes his leg a little at the bottom of the escalator before ambling after her to the parking deck.

- - - Captain America - - -

"Where did Captain America learn how to steal a car?" she asks as they enter New Jersey, the truck clinging to the pavement the way his hand holds tightly to the steering wheel.

"Nazi Germany," he answers, glaring across the seat at her before scolding. "And we're borrowing. Take your feet off the dash."

With a slight smirk, she moves her feet to the floor. Bossy Steve is kinda hot, though there's a sternness to his voice that plucks at the nerve of her daddy issues. She can only imagine what that silky command of it would be like in bed.

She gets a look, one he notices from the corner of his eye. He knows things are about to get worse before she even opens her mouth. And he's right.

"Alright, I have a question for you," Natasha prods. "Of which you do not have to answer… but I feel like if you don't answer, you're answering, you know?"

The pop of her gum is annoying, it makes him tense. There isn't much about Natasha Romanoff that doesn't make him tense - her penchant for secrets and willingness to break the rules only part of a laundry list of complications - but, now, at this moment, the fact that he can still taste said gum in his mouth only serves to increase his discomfort.

"What?" he cuts her off gruffly.

She finds this amusing, ruffling the normally stoic Captain's feathers. Messy. She enjoys a good mess, particularly when it comes to sex. So she lays it on him with a saucy smile. "Was that your first kiss since 1945?"

Steve is clearly _not_ as amused. He groans, shaking his head ever so slightly. "That bad, huh?"

Oh, this was good. It almost made it worth being stuck shotgun in a vehicle with a man who refuses to drive like they stole it. Speed. She needs speed and to get to the next part rather than be stuck in limbo. She lets a hint of laughter enter her reply. "I didn't say that."

He tries to smile and keep his shit together. It is sorta funny, in an awkward_ 'Are we really having this discussion?'_ kind of way. "Well, it kinda sounds like that's what you're saying."

"No. I didn't…" Damn. Now she's the one feeling flustered. He's like a lost puppy and she feels like she's just given him a good, swift kick. She searches for the right words before settling on what she hopes is the least offensive response. "I just wondered how much practice you've had."

He scoffs and she's sure she sees a blush creeping up his neck. "You don't need practice."

"Everybody needs practice," she tells him nonchalantly.

She finally gets the answer she's looking for when his posture changes. "It was _not_ my first kiss since 1945. I'm 95, I'm not dead."

It was and they both know it, but she doesn't call him on it. Instead, she pushes a different button. "Nobody special then?"

He chuckles awkwardly. "Believe it or not, it's kinda hard to find someone with shared life experience."

The spy in her kicks in, the part that creates the perfect cover for whatever situation life throws at her. It's that part that lead her to claim the soft pillows of his lips at the mall. "It's alright. You just make something up."

"What, like you?" his blue eyes flicker with something that makes her a little crazy. Truth is black and white to him, to her it's more gray areas and little nooks to escape obstacles.

So she says, "I don't know. Truth is a matter of circumstance. It's not all things to all people all of the time." Her lips twitch. "And neither am I."

"It's a tough way to live," he says, taking a quick look at her before focusing on the road ahead again.

"It's a good way not to die though," she replies wistfully. Talk about buzzkill. The playfulness of the conversation has faded away and their talk has become more serious.

"You know it's kinda hard to trust someone when you don't know who that someone is." His voice strong and doesn't waver. It cuts in a way she'd never admit.

Truth. He always has to have the truth. He doesn't know any better, but she'll show him.

And that's how it started, how the Black Widow decided to take Captain America's love life by the shield and show him how to live a life more extraordinary. A life that's messy and full of promise, truth be damned. She seizes the moment, batting her eyes at him and asking sweetly, "Who do you want me to be?"


	2. Chapter 2: Everybody Needs Practice

**Author Note: **Takes place during/after _Captain America: The Winter Soldier._

**Disclaimer: **No copyright infringement intended. Unbetaed, all mistakes are mine.

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><p><span>Chapter Two: Everybody Needs Practice<span>

It was odd asking Sam for help. Not because Steve didn't believe he could trust Sam, but because of the way Sam's eyes flicked from him to Natasha and back again. No, Sam could be trusted. It just might be weird later, uncomfortable when he had to explain the redhead's presence.

Thankfully Sam acts like it's no big deal. He doesn't ask questions upfront, just sets them up with towels and an opportunity to get cleaned up. Steve couldn't have anticipated what would happen once his running buddy left them alone.

He catches Nat's eyes in the bathroom mirror. Black Widow sits on the end of the bed drying her hair with a towel. Looking less like the deadly assassin she is and more like a scared young girl, overwhelmed and confused, she doesn't attempt to hide from him.

Steve is grateful for this, grateful they've finally achieved what he knows to be imperative: trust. Drying his hands his skin still stained and dirty, he looks upon her with concern. "You okay?"

Natasha gives an imperceptible nod and answers simply, "Yeah."

Steve isn't convinced. Tossing his towel down, he approaches her with caution. He doesn't know much about women, but he has a feeling in her vulnerable state Natasha may be even more deadly than normal. Sitting in front of her carefully lowering himself to her level, he looks directly into her eyes with concern. "What's going on?"

Natasha fidgets with the towel for a bit before dropping her hands to her lap. Her instincts tell her not to look at him - that doing so would mean putting the hurt she's feeling on display and risking getting hurt - but the purity of his baby blue eyes makes her surrender. Thank God they're on the same side because she's sure there aren't many secrets he couldn't get her to spill the way he's looking at her now.

"When I first joined SHIELD, I thought I was going straight." It takes effort not to sweep his hair off his forehead, not to touch him the way he touches her with his eyes. He's not her mark. She knows touching him would be for her own comfort. She's Black Widow. Cold and unfeeling, trained to act without conscience; however, faced with America's golden boy she finds she's incapable of not feeling.

Steve Rogers is the embodiment of what she thought SHIELD was. It should scare her, send her running as far and as fast as she can because she's never quite felt like she belonged. But it doesn't. She continues her confession.

"But I guess I just traded in the KGB for HYDRA. I thought I knew whose lies I was telling, but..." She looks sad, broken as she tries to keep the emotion from her voice. "I guess I can't tell the difference anymore."

Steve doesn't miss a beat. He's reassuring, his grin doing things it shouldn't. "There's a chance you might be in the wrong business."

Natasha smiles back despite herself and huffs an almost laugh. Their eyes meet and hold. Even dirty, he's handsome. His chiseled jaw and broad chest are strong and masculine, powerful. And there's something in the way he looks at her then makes her ache. Maybe it's that he can see past all her lies to the person she could be.

"I owe you," she murmurs as she leans in. The hint of his cologne invades her senses even though it's hidden in the rubble of all they've been through in the last 24 hours. She's called him a fossil but he doesn't look or smell like one. A 95 year old man should have loose skin and wrinkles, he should smell like Bengay. Captain America is definitely not an old man. Old fashioned maybe, but he appears no older than she is.

Steve snaps her out of the thought by mumbling, "It's okay."

Gaining strength, her voice grows steady as she takes back control. "If it was the other way around, and it was down to me to save your life, and you be honest with me, would you trust me to do it?"

"I would now." His smile is boyish and it tickles her as surely as a feather brushing her skin would've. "And I'm always honest."

"Steve?" she catches her lip beneath her teeth and wishes she were the girl she sees reflected in his eyes. She made up her mind in the car. No more trying to fix him up. She would do it herself.

"Yeah, Nat?" his lips twitch. This is nice, normal. It's more what friends and partners do.

Only it isn't. At all. "I'd apologize for teasing you earlier, but…"

His brows furrow slightly and she lets the towel slip from her lap to the floor between them before her hands cup his neck and she draws him close. Steve feels her breath in the moment before her bee stung lips press against his. He knows it's hers and not his own because the air catches in his lungs and he forgets how to exhale.

This isn't 1945. He's less experienced and feels the need to prove himself. Taking a chance, he lets chivalry be damned and cups her face as her mouth moves beneath his. She's soft and has a candied sweetness. It feels right despite the fact he's not quite sure where to put his hands.

Natasha knows he could stop her. She also knows when he touches her that he needs it - this, her - as much as she does. Experimenting she delicately brushes his lips with the tip of her tongue, taking the advantage when his mouth opens in surprise.

They part seconds later on ragged breath and she pulls back but not away. Her eyes flutter open and she gives him an innocent expression, "Practice makes…"

But he doesn't let her finish. With a groan Steve tugs her back to the warm circle of his embrace, causing her to stumble against the breadth of his chest. Firm yet incredibly tender, his lips descend and devour. His tongue makes a shy pass that she rewards with a moan.

Fingers tangling in his hair, she opens her mouth to him and deepens the kiss. His arms snake around her and he mimics her movements. Deep, wet and hungry, it's unlike anything he's experienced before and all he knows is that he wants more. His hands glide across the skin of her lower back where he shirt rides up.

"I've made breakfast if you…" Sam interrupts. Then he hears it, the clearing of a throat. He knows the sound because he made it interrupting Bucky with a girl more than once, but he's never…

Until now.

Sam chuckles, rubbing his neck. "Damn, Cap. My bad."

On instinct, Steve keeps Natasha tucked behind his large frame. He wipes his mouth and addresses his friend as he shields her from view with his body. "We'll be out in just a minute."

With a nod, Sam pushes off the doorframe and heads back to the kitchen. Steve isn't entirely sure what to do, how to handle it. All he knows is he wants to taste Natasha's mouth again. He links their fingers, diverting his eyes from hers with a blush. "So…"

Natasha laughs, the lyrical sound filling the room. She wants to say the right thing, but finds she's out of practice when it comes to niceties. Her hand flexes in his grip. "When this is all over, you owe me, Rogers."

He tilts his head and her smile pulls to the right corner of her mouth. Leaning in, she whispers a trail of kisses from the corner of his mouth to his ear. She's read his file. She knows about his conversation with Peggy Carter and the promise of a dance. She refuses to be cliché even as it appears history could, in a way, repeat itself.

His eyes close at the feel of Natasha's breath on his neck and the shell of his ear. The press of her body makes his heart pound. "Find me when you're ready for your next lesson, Captain."

And with that Natasha leaves a stunned Steve blinking and confused in her wake. She may not be the right girl, but she has skills she could impart to teach him to hold onto her when he found her. Until then, she'd enjoy Captain America while she could. Because everyone needs practice.

Even Black Widow.


End file.
